Longboarders in the Night

for 'tasha

If I could bleed through the skies like microphone mesh
you would hear the songs I am singing to you
like 60 minute heart beats wound up with no stress
if I could race the very sun
and win and still never wear out my kicks
I know you would already be in the grass of the next morning
smiling gentle eyed like the goddess you don't know you are
in the morning day light the sunshine
slits in through the kitchen window across
the living room floor and glints in your eyes like stars
but I must admit that I've been up since seven and haven't napped
so I don't know how far I'm going to be able to run
but still it is so exciting just the same
so much so that it feels like I'm going to explode
with anticipation at the thought of the chase
so in preparation I jacked a 2/6 of sailor jerrys
slammed it back blazed a blunt lit a smoke
imagined your hand on my throat
teeming as the needle before the plunge
knuckles tighten before the choke
and in the soundlessness of the blaring
of the countdown just before lift off
I see the prime time crook in the corner of your mouth
as your eyes lessen/listen to the 60 hours
of my heart pounding too fast for my own good
but keeping a steady pace with the good of your own
60 minutes of my chest crashing
compress into 60 milliseconds of the slide ways sly grin i reflect
not knowing that all along you were the mirror
and I am beginning to ramble beginning to feel dizzy
and my words must be clouded and unclear
like a drunk with his gamble on account of
I am so fucking high off you
it would be impossible for me to drive so take the wheel and steer
and true neither of us may ever come down completely
but don't worry we'll trade off every 6 hours
or on the inbetweens when we are peaking
which needless to say at this point
is probably going to be most of the time
and ya know if we could we would slam the petal to the floor
and do our best to fly 'cause fuck yea we like to go fast
and sure we like to party but we also live inside a city
so for the sake of responsibility and at least
our parents peace of mind and our own physical safety
fuck the car
get on your kicks grab your deck
a dirty 20 for supplies on the way
your grand dads bag of weed (leave a note trust me he'll understand)
cigars clenched between our teeth let out a scream
take my hand and let's FUCKING GO!
let's bomb this hill like it's the only one that exists
let's bomb this hill blindfolded
like we actually know whats around the bend
let's double on one skate with our hands on eachother's eyes
realize we can do anything / actually
not with blind faith but wide eyed knowing
home done ink bleed from our feet / lets ignite
roadrash naked hips side by side
longboarders torching off weightless / airy / light
longboarders torching off / long long long into the night

Tricky

I just can't seem to get my fill
the image in my mind's eye sighs the same still
well I do what I can and I do what I will
yet my wanting wants more than it's willing to kill for
so i cut chems / rearrange brain stems
advocate all kinds of trends and burn blends
possible sanctioning of a lack of strife I hope for
susceptible motions I attempt to make amends for
cause I don't even know what I'm willing to die for
but I know that I just can't seem to get my fill
the image in my mind's eye sighs the same still
so I remain constrained / plain as a blood stain
half beheaded with a terror named migraine and
prescription bills / brains bored / bare bones
no frills or gimmicks and a slight sore and
I just can't seem to kick the state that I'm in
I want and so continue to twist in the wind
patient perhaps for a moment in time
where I can be fine with just being mine
hug myself so tight that I touch my spine
dig myself out of the fright and derived
let my white light shine but the want
fucking
blinds
I just can't seem to get my fill
the image in my mind's eye sighs the same still
I want and I want and I will never stop wanting
I want and I want and I WILL ALWAYS WANT MORE

Sisu

If I could speak of the east in tonal languages deserving I would use the hyperbole of words such as veritable and haunting full bodied / manifesto and grandmotherly really any sounds conducive of the ancient minds bred of a windful theory in music and the sands mountaining on the eyelids of faith remind me of the most farest offest places of myself sliding even with my back turned singing sitars seldom stagnant circumvent under earth running rivers wet palms closer when you are at my side. in a desert free of mirage its always more quenching where the music is. and if there is the one thing that the visual guidance of Sanskrit has taught me its that god is in the flow of characters streaming together words become emotion becomes manifestation like its been every single day since the rains apocalypse subsided

patiently

and i for one will not take that quest for fire granted i have been handed down the schematics.

rojin, your grandmother is a beautiful woman. the next time you see her you hold the sides of her face in your hands look into her eyes and tell her that "somewhere there is a skinny tattooed Finnish-Canadian boy standing barefoot on the harbor covered in paint cigar clenched between teeth bobbing gently to the beat living on the west coast of Canada on a fucking island and that even though he is that far away and even though you have no idea who he is when you smile with subtle grey eyes of love and knowing and confidence and strength uncertain certainty hope peace wisdom and honor that is near unweatherable he can feel you...and he loves you, truly."

the chimes intact tinker heart songs that rise above the dunes and flags of the tall ships linger in that which we know is wordless still blessedly still we focus half lotused intent on memorizing the verse tracing every string of the universal lattice coy and childish for all ways we attempt we work hard we mimic the thousand arms to the best of our abilities and coincidentally enough from between you, me and your grand daughter regardless of space or time our mimicry comes as a soft steady droning "Om" breaking barriers tearing culture asunder wavering only when fragmented and hashed over the threads of varying frequencies leaking foot prints of separate sizes but when the sun is cold you can still find the steam seeping heavily from the space in the door hinges of the sauna the air inside so thick we breathe water and the moisture knows not the difference between the surface of our eyes and the space 6 inches in front of them...sound travels through granite and a mistrust of my love just as soon as it schoons walkways through the saunas steam so i am singing again not because it goes unheard but because proven repetition ferments faith related in many motions and i don't know where you were born or how often and distant you travel or the means of communication you are most comfortable traversing so ive carved a euro gothic cathedral from howlite with 3 crying veins of labradorite streaking through it the veins face 3 dimensional directions as to catch sunshine independently of one another so that we may always see the reflection of the universe in the things we create and know which star is blazing fiercest just for us. 3 bells of iron wrought in the 3 towers audiofy keys of meditation whispered and cutting as triple tonal sonar fining its way through the oceans and waves tails of the 3 horse men sped relentlessly to seek out our specific souls declarations of my love tattooed across their backs in a triptych of organic memory. pieces of a whole we each will hold.
i imagine an afterlife of congruence through intention. me and you and rojin the 3 caballi we rode in on and horsemen that led us there. it is in the leaving i discover the terraforms my heart creates it is in the leaving my island comes into sight of yours for the very first time and i find that coincidentally our love differs not that greatly. it is no longer a struggle to enunciate the music we play together with clarity for our voices will stream together as one and emit from the core not as a choir but as a single loud soft steady "Ommmmmmmmmmmm"

Unattended children will be given free espresso and a puppy

the empty space between my bones, organs and muscles
is occupied with words (or thoughts we'll say)
that right now I probably shouldn't say out loud
on account of my vessel seems to be a passionate one
intent on grabbing the things that make it happy
very tightly in it's tiny little fist grinning shamelessly
and then running around the yard in circles
screaming and laughing dragging these happy things
behind it like a puppy on a leash unable to keep up
with the pace until my vessel looks back and is
washed clean of it's excitement when it discovers
the lifeless bruised body of that which it cared
for so dearly strung from the noose of a leash
tongue protruding
when this happens my vessels tends to look up
into the sky in absolute amazement and ask
"now how the FUCK did that happen!?!"
soooooooooooo
I work very very hard at taming the feelings
filling the seemingly empty cavities in my body
and do my best to keep what comes out of me
in part and parcel portion with the capabilities
age and understanding of said happiness...
lest I hug too tightly leaving hand prints
in the now dormant skull of the things that I hold dearest.

Symbols

for 'tasha.